


The Start of Something Amazing

by Buffintruda



Series: Aro Spec Awareness Week [8]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Coincidences, Gen, famous singer!Grantaire, past crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9922571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buffintruda/pseuds/Buffintruda
Summary: This time, there was no way it could backfire on Enjolras. Courfeyrac had dared Enjolras to flirt with somebody, but to make sure that he, an aromantic asexual, wouldn't get involved in any unnecessary drama, Courfeyrac promised to choose the person least-likely to be interested. That person was unattainable, all right. Too bad that person is also their favorite singer of all times, Grantaire.In which Enjolras is embarrassed, Grantaire is annoyed by irony, Courfeyrac pulls everything together, and all misunderstandings are soon resolved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, when I read or watch something, I wonder how the situations characters get themselves into would be different if one of them was aro and/or ace. This idea came from reading Small Steps by Louis Sachar and watching Yuri On Ice.

“Holy fuck,” Courfeyrac said, inhaling a sharp, shocked breath. He tugged on Enjolras’ sleeve. “Is that...? There’s no way.”

Enjolras felt his eyes widen, as he realized what had made Courfeyrac gasp. Grantaire, a famous musician, was walking up to the door of the coffee shop, visible through the window. He was the singer in a band comprised of only wind instruments, called the Winds of Nep-tune. Though perhaps not the most widely known, both Courfeyrac and Enjolras were huge fans of this artist, whose songs were not fully focused on romance, but touched on other subjects, including queerness, racial prejudice, and depression, along with other more random things like the feeling of staring out into the city on a lonely night or the problem of vanishing writing utensils. That he lived in the same city as them only added a bit of pride to the mix.

Courfeyrac grinned wickedly. “It is! Do him!” he whispered, as Grantaire entered the place. Courfeyrac spun away to the back of the coffee shop to fix a stack of lids and fiddle with some machines, leaving Enjolras to face Grantaire alone.

_ Do him.  _ Because of course Courfeyrac would choose someone he admired very much to make a fool of himself in front of.

It had started the night before, when his friends for some reason decided to play a game of truth or dare after a meeting. During one of Enjolras’ turn, Courfeyrac dared him to flirt with someone.

“I don’t know how to flirt,” he had protested. “I’ve never wanted to.” Life was awkward enough as someone who felt neither sexual nor romantic attraction without throwing himself into the middle of it.

“That’s what makes it so funny,” Courfeyrac giggled. “But no, it won’t be as great as it could be, if you do it now. Everyone here is expecting it, they’re expecting  _ you. _ We need to find a stranger and—”

“No,” Enjolras interrupted. “What if they think serious?”

“Then how about this? Tomorrow, at work, I’ll find the person who looks least likely to possibly be interested in you and you’ll have to do it.”

“That’s not fair,” Eponine protested, and for a brief second Enjolras felt relief at his very good and supportive friends. “None of us will be able to watch it then!”

“I’ll record it,” Courfeyrac promised.

“No, but Eponine brings up a good point,” Feuilly said. “If the dare doesn’t take place during the game, it doesn’t count.”

“ _ Thank you _ , Feuilly,” Enjolras said, happy that at least someone was on his side. “So since I won’t be able to do this dare, what about another one?”

“You should ask to switch to truth,” Combeferre warned. “Courfeyrac’s going to make any dare be worse in retaliation for not being able to do his original one.”

“Like a truth couldn’t be just as embarrassing,” Marius muttered.

“No, no, forget the dare,” Courfeyrac said. “I’ll pay you ten, no, twenty dollars if you do it. Plus I’ll let you switch to truth this round and I won’t ask you anything embarrassing. I already know all your embarrassing secrets anyway.”

“If I say I’ll seriously consider it, do I get the truth?” Enjolras had asked.

“Sure,” Courfeyrac said, and his fate had been sealed.

Enjolras had figured that whether or not he would take Courfeyrac’s dare would depend on the person. But this person,  _ Grantaire _ , was the one chosen. There were only seconds now to come to a decision. Being a weekday in that time between lunch and ending of the nearby high school, it wasn’t very busy, so no one was in line. This meant that Grantaire could walk straight up to the counter, leaving Enjolras no time to stall.

“Can I take your order?” Enjolras said, stumbling over his words, trying to hold back an embarrassed blush. Why could he speak with clear and perfect diction in front of a thousand people but put him in front of one person he admired and suddenly that ability was lost? Working at this place meant that he had lots of practice asking for people’s orders, but as it was someone like  _ Grantaire _ , even without all the pressure of the dare, talking normally was suddenly much harder.

Courfeyrac coughed behind him, likely trying to remind him of what he was supposed to do. But the stare Grantaire was giving Enjolras distracted him, because it looked almost surprised, which made no sense. There was nothing unusual about a 25 year old man asking someone for their order in a coffee shop.

“Are you Grantaire from the Winds of Nep-tune?” Enjolras blurted out, when the silence stretched out for more than a second, regretting it the moment he did.

“You know me?” Grantaire lost the odd look and seemed rather delighted.

“I’m a big fan of your music,” Enjolras said. He had no idea how to flirt; the only thing he knew was what he caught from movies, which was ridiculous pick up lines and exaggerated winking and touching, none of which seemed appropriate here and now, especially if he didn’t want to spectacularly embarrass himself in front of one of the few people he admired from afar. But he had to admit that Courfeyrac had chosen well—there was no chance that a celebrity, who likely had hordes of fans who would sell their soul to be with him, would ever even consider following up on any flirting from him. There wouldn’t even be any homophobic backlash. And twenty dollars did sound nice. What did he have to lose, other than some dignity? Grantaire would never remember him. Still, it was probably better to just not, he thought. Courfeyrac would hold it over him forever, whether or not the flirting was any good. “It’s some of my favorite.”

Lost in his hasty decision making, Enjolras missed the emotions that flitted across Grantaire’s face before it settled on a grin.

“Um, sorry,” Enjolras said. He had to act professional. This was his job. He didn’t even know what Grantaire wanted to order yet. “You just want a drink, not someone fanning over you.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You probably didn’t expect me to show up like this, and I don’t mind. It’s nice to be appreciated.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so handsome either,” Enjolras said on impulse, forgetting that he had planned not to do the dare. He turned red, wishing he could take it back. Hastily, he tried to explain, “I mean—”

Grantaire was blushing a little too. “Really? It’s just, people say it’s a shame my looks aren’t a tenth as good as my voice. I know I’m pretty ugly, I mean, especially compared to you...”

“No, really,” Enjolras said, more firmly. Grantaire’s awkwardness gave him some confidence, since at least he wasn’t the only embarrassed one. 

He was a terrible judge of people’s appearances. There were countless times where someone had told him another person was hot or cute, but he just saw them as fairly average looking. Most people were average looking. Grantaire was average looking. But not particularly more or less so than those people that were considered to be incredibly hot or cute, so Enjolras figured he could count him as good-looking. “But, um, your order?”

“Well,” Grantaire said. “I like going around to different places and sampling what they have. I’m here to explore, in a sense. So can I have something random? Something unique and good, preferably.”

“One unique and good drink coming up, “ Courfeyrac said, to Enjolras’ immense relief. It was only fair that Courfeyrac did the work, Enjolras thought, since Courfeyrac was definitely enjoying his loss of dignity far more than him.

“You tour coffee shops?” Enjolras asked, while waiting for Courfeyrac to make the drink.

“Not just coffee shops, restaurants, gyms, bars, theatres, hotels, everything. Like give me any social event and I’ll know the best place in this city. I could take literally anyone on the perfect date, if I knew enough about their preferences and personality.”

Enjolras spared a moment to be briefly annoyed about how everything seemed to turn to romance to the point where Grantaire would list it as his biggest evidence towards the practicality of his knowledge. Even if to most people that weren’t him it would be an important use. He said dryly, “I suppose then, that places can’t expect to attract more attention by saying you went there once.”

Grantaire laughed. “You overestimate my famousness. I’m not as recognized as many other musicians. My face isn’t on many products or magazines or anything, because it’s hardly good enough to convince anyone to buy anything.”

“Here’s your drink, sir,” Courfeyrac said, placing it on the counter between them. “Unique and hopefully good.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire said automatically, as startled by the interruption as Enjolras was.

Was deepening your voice a thing that was flirtatious? Enjolras wondered belatedly. If it wasn’t, that would sound awkward if he changed it a lot. He compromised, aiming for a change that ended up so small that it was likely not noticeable by anyone else. 

“Just call if you need anything,” Enjolras said, as Grantaire payed.

“I will,” Grantaire said, giving him another odd look, before heading to a table.

“I believe you said something about twenty dollars?” Enjolras asked Courfeyrac, once Grantaire was out of earshot.

Courfeyrac snorted. “ _ That _ was barely flirting.”

“I called him handsome! How is that not flirting?”

“It’s the tone of voice, the body language. You had none of that. I’ll give you half a point.”

“How would you expect me to get that stuff down when I don’t even know how to recognize it?”

“You were supposed to make up from it with outrageous pick up lines,” Courfeyrac said. “Humiliation was the point of the dare, Enjolras.  _ Grantaire _ flirted with you more than you did originally.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Enjolras informed his friend. “I did the best I could, and you didn’t give any requirements. And he wasn’t flirting back. ...Was he?”

“He so was,” Courfeyrac said, laughing.

“How?”

“Well, first of all, there was some of that tone and body language thing I mentioned earlier. Like right there at the end, with all that eye contact? He blushed a little too.”

“I blushed too!” It was funny, Enjolras thought. Under any other circumstances, he would likely never say half of what he had said in the past five minutes. But since he had gone through all the trouble and embarrassment of attempting to flirt, he wanted to at least get the reward.

“Only because you were meeting a famous guy and get embarrassed easily.  _ He  _ had little reason to be that way. He said you were good-looking too, and talked about knowing where to take anyone on a date.”

“That was flirting? I thought that was amatonormativity talking.”

“Of course you did,” Courfeyrac sighed.

A couple came in then, taking far too long, in Enjolras’ opinion, to order. By the time they were done, he didn’t feel like continuing the argument. Later, he could bring in someone else to settle it, but now, it would only go in pointless circles.

“Did you record it?” Enjolras asked. “You said you would for Eponine, but I didn’t see you.”

“I’ll have you know that I do have  _ some _ sense of subtlety,” Courfeyrac said, exaggeratedly offended. “I hid my phone.” He pointed to a space between napkin dispensers arranged to perfectly support and hide a phone in order for it to record the scene. “I hit the record button before and after the whole thing, so there’s some extra stuff on the beginning and end.”

“Since you’re going to show it to Eponine anyway, how about you have her decide?” Enjolras suggested.

Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow. “Just Eponine? We might as well get everyone else involved.”

“You aren’t going to show it to anyone else.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll all kill me if I don’t. You don’t make a fool of yourself very often, so they’ll take any opportunity to see it. Plus it has  _ Grantaire _ in it, so even without you they’d want to see it. I can’t believe I just talked to Grantaire. Gave him coffee. We were so lucky to be on this shift.”

Enjolras knew he wasn’t going to win this one. Even if Courfeyrac did agree to not show anyone else, nobody else would accept that. 

“So they’re all judging?” He counted in his head as Courfeyrac responded affirmatively: Combeferre, Feuilly, Bahorel, Jehan, Musichetta, Eponine, Marius. Seven. He suddenly felt  silly. There had been nine of them for quite some time, all he had to do was to subtract him and Courfeyrac, nine minus two was seven. “There’s an odd number of them so it could work.”

Running through each person again, Enjolras tried to guess who would vote on his side, or who could be persuaded to do so. He would definitely win if they took pity on his humiliation enough to feel he deserved some compensation for trying his hardest. If they wanted to make him suffer, he would definitely lose. There was a fair amount of middle ground, and Enjolras couldn’t decide which way the final votes would fall.

Enjolras looked up just in time to see Grantaire get up and place a couple of folded bills on the counter.

“Your tip,” he said in explanation and left.

“Thank you,” Enjolras called out after him. He unfolded the money, finding to his his surprise, it was two 5 dollar bills. The drink Grantaire had had cost only a little over half that amount. As he moved to put them in the tip jar, a slip of paper with a line of numbers on it fell out from between them.

“If that’s what I think it is...” Courfeyrac said, astonished. “Then I am so sorry, I think I severely underestimated the impact you’d have on him.”

“I think I win that twenty dollars,” Enjolras said, hardly paying attention to what was coming out of his mouth in his shock.

“I think Grantaire thinks so too,” Courfeyrac laughed disbelievingly. “I was totally not expecting that. What kind of famous person gives their number to a random fan anyway?” 

“I should probably throw this away.” The weight of its meaning began sinking into his mind. Even when he thought it was absolutely impossible for someone to be seriously interested in him, he still got a phone number.

“But—” Courfeyrac started. “Okay, this is kind of my fault, so I’m not going to try to tell you what to do, but please don’t throw away  _ Grantaire’s _ phone number away.”

“There’s no point in keeping it. If I ever contact him that would make everything complicated. I’ll just enjoy the surprise of having met him and at how nice he was and forget it.”

“But you never know!” Courfeyrac protested. “Even if you never use it, at least put the number in your phone! I’ll take it if you don’t.”

“Wouldn’t that be like some breach of privacy or trust if I let you? There’s a reason most celebrities don’t publically reveal that kind of information.”

“Except that I don’t count as the public, and I won’t spread it around. I’m your  _ friend _ Enjolras, not a random fan!” Courfeyrac pleaded.

“When most people give people phone numbers, it’s generally not so they can give it to someone else. I know that much about romance, at least.”

“If he knew I was keeping it safe so you wouldn’t lose it completely, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“And if he knew why I wanted to lose it completely, I’m sure he wouldn’t want me to have it anymore.” Enjolras made a face, and tossed Courfeyrac the piece of paper. “Here. Do whatever you want with it, I don’t really care.”

Being reminded that most people saw him as worth less and not as interesting when they learned he couldn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction always put a damper on his spirits. Enjolras took a rag, heading towards the table Grantaire had sat at.

“Combeferre?” Courfeyrac said, already on his phone. “You would not believe what just happened today.”

...

Later that night, Courfeyrac texted the number Grantaire had left. 

**Courfeyrac:** _Is this Grantaire?_

That sounded unusually formal, but this was a serious conversation he wanted, with a stranger.

The reply was surprisingly quick, 

**Grantaire:** _ yes? _

Grantaire hadn’t given a fake number, then, Courfeyrac thought.

**Courfeyrac:** _ I’m Courfeyrac, Enjolras’ friend. _

_ Enjolras is the guy you gave the number to btw _

**Grantaire:** _ the guy who made the coffee? _

Courfeyrac was pleased that not only did Grantaire remember him, he didn’t seem especially upset that a stranger had his number. The Winds of Nep-tune had always seemed like nice people, but you could never be sure with celebrities. Their public image was not the same as who they really were.

**Courfeyrac:** _ yep. _

_ why did you give Enj your number? _

**Grantaire:** _ to get the chance to know him better? _

_ idk _

_ why else do people give out numbers like that? _

It was a vague answer, but not an especially unpromising one, Courfeyrac thought. And Grantaire didn’t seem too annoyed that it wasn’t Enjolras who was texting him. Bluntly, he texted,

**Courfeyrac:** _ If you mean that in a date-y way, you’re not gonna find what your looking for. _

**Grantaire:** _ that’s fine _

_ i didn’t really expect otherwise _

Which seemed like an odd thing to hear from a stranger, someone who didn’t know Enj at all, someone who could hardly be considered undesirable enough to warrant such a comment.

**Courfeyrac:** _ whyd you give your number to him anyway? _

_ he cant be the first nice looking fan youve run into _

**Grantaire:** _ this sounds kind of weird... _

_ i knew him in college _

_ sort of. he didn’t really nkow me _

_ you were part of that political activism group he ran right? _

_ he was hard to ignore. i had a huge crush on him actually. he inspired some of my early sutff _

_ when i saw him again it was so weird knowing him but him not knowing that i knew him. i thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know him for real _

_ i mean in a romantic way would be cool but he seemed very against that before so i didnt really expect it _

_ and sorry for sending so many texts all at once _

**Courfeyrac:** _ i can’t beliEVE _

_ YOU WENT TO THE SAME COLLEGE AS ME _

_ I SAW YOU IN THE HALLWAYS UNSUSPECTING OF WHO I WAS PASSIGN _

_ (you can never send to many texts to me) _

_ WERE WE IN THE SAMEYEAR??? _

**Grantaire:** _ i dont know but i was a year above Enjorlas _

**Courfeyrac:** _ we weren’t in the same year _

_ im the same age as Enj _

_ we were middle school buddies _

_ so guess the universe isn’t that lucky _

_ BUT STILL!!! _

**Grantaire:** _ its only weird for you. for me, i had to go to school with people in it somewhere. the coincidence is that enjolras is my fan _

**Courfeyrac:** _ true. but still. _

_ Enj alwmost threw your number away im so glad i made him give it to me _

**Grantaire:** _ why did he do that?  _

Grantaire sent the message before Courfeyrac could finish typing up his explanation. He couldn’t tell whether Grantaire’s tone was actually hurt or if Courfeyrac was just projecting expectations onto lifeless letters.

**Courfeyrac:** _ he thought u only wanted him an romo/sexy way but i wanted to keep it just in case _

_ good thing i did _

**Grantaire:** _ that’s fair _

_ but im all for the platonic contacting and getting to know each other stuff, just so you know _

_ youre a cool dude Courfeyrac _

**Courfeyrac:** _ :D  _

What a strange reality he lived in, Courfeyrac thought, where something like this could happen.

**Courfeyrac:** _ Since he has no reason not to talk to you now do want me to text you his number? _

**Grantaire:** _ thatd be weird and creepy i think. if i just called him out of the blue _

**Courfeyrac:** _ yeah... ill just explain the situation to him and tell him to text you _

_ if ur cool w/ that _

**Grantaire:** _ sounds good _

_ thanks for all this _

**Courfeyrac:** _ i’m sure im getting more out of this conversation than u r _

_ i get to talk to my fav musician! _

_ you siad enj inspired some of your early stuff? U mean PUBLISHED stuff??? or like *really* early stuff _

**Grantaire:** _ yeah, published. where do you think Ange de Feu came from? _

_ ange sounds like Enj in french _

Ange de Feu, Courfeyrac remembered, had been a song about being in love with an intense guy who could probably burn up the world in the name of justice. He quickly googled the lyrics.

“Angel of Fire

Ignite my desire

Your aim is to set the world aflame

But still, your words change mine all the same

So intense

Go to any lengths

For mercy, justice

Liberty, endless

Brûlez les yeux

Ah, Ange de Feu” was the first verse.

Those lyrics had reminded him of Enjolras before, but now looking at each line through different eyes, he could see how they described Enjolras through an outsider’s perspective.

**Courfeyrac:** _ WHOA _

_ that makes so much sense... he’s probably going to spontaneously combust when i tell him _

_ im going to do that right now _

_ see you after i tel a man that his favorite singer wrote a song about him before he even knew that singer existed _

**Grantaire:** _ I’m his favorite? _

...

Grantaire waited for his phone to alert him of a new text, either from Courfeyrac answering his question or updating him, or from Enjolras himself finally speaking to him for the first time in years.

Courfeyrac had found it strange and impossible to learn that someone he seemed to admire a lot had already been near him a while back, and Grantaire could understand that. But what he found more astonishing was that the person he had once spent so much time thinking about, had felt so in love with, knew him and liked him, but only as a distant figure. It was the oddest reversal of positions that he never could have imagined or predicted, even as the songs he performed steadily grew in popularity.

In a way, he was glad Enjolras didn’t remember him, as their few interactions had been utterly mortifying on his part, especially in retrospect. Everything he said about Enjolras during that time was embarrassing, now that the consuming fervor behind those feelings had vanished.

Still, Joly and Bossuet would take great pleasure in teasing him about it, once they learned that he had run into Enjolras. They probably wouldn’t tell Enjolras too many of the more humiliating things he had said and done then, if they ever got close enough for that. Cosette, a newer addition to their band, hadn’t known Grantaire or Enjolras back then, but she’d heard enough stories for it to possibly be awkward, but he was pretty sure she was nice enough not to say anything. Of course, every time he thought she might be a literal angel, she showed a far eviler side.

It was better that Enjolras didn’t remember those few interactions they had, Grantaire knew, but it was little disappointing to know that he had meant so little to him.

_ And one da-ay you will forget me, _ Grantaire thought. It felt like the start of a chorus to a song, a hommage to what he had thought about Enjolras in his college days, with the perspective of what he knew now.

What rhymed with me? Be... let it be... maybe... Or the line could be split in two,  _ And one day/You will forget me _ and the next words flowed through his mind.  _ Better that way/More than likely/I could never mean to you/As much as I wanted to. _ That sounded rough and unpolished, but he reached for a pen and the paper he always kept at his bedside to scribble the words down, in case they inspired something more. He would probably end up adjusting some of the lines.

His phone started to ring, but he ignored it until his pen could be set down. Unknown number, Grantaire read. He answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Grantaire? This is Enjolras.”

“Oh! So Courfeyrac told you everything? I didn’t expect you to call.” He hated this lighter mask he had learned to cover himself with. It was one thing to act fake in front of fans, who he didn’t want to hurt, even unintentionally, by being his more sarcastic, bitter self. Even Courfeyrac was okay, since they didn’t know each other and Courfeyrac was clearly looking out for his friend, making especially good behavior reasonable. But this was Enjolras, who should be different, even if they didn’t really know each other.

They  _ didn’t  _ actually know each other, he reminded himself. It was okay to not act the same around Enjolras, or really any acquaintance that he wanted to get to know better, as he did with his closest friends. He didn’t want to push Enjolras away so soon, anyway.

“Sorry...” Enjolras said. “It’s hard to talk to people I’m not familiar with, when I can’t hear their inflection and tone and stuff, so I like to call. I could hang up and text you though, if you prefer.”

Grantaire suddenly remembered how uncomfortable Enjolras could be when talking to strangers, even though on a stage or with some purpose, he acted with a confidence Grantaire could never hope to match. Though he generally liked texting over talking over the phone (which had the double disadvantage of being unable to see a person’s face or check what you said before it was sent) he said, “Yeah, no, it makes sense. You can’t really pick up subtle meaning and tone through text.”

“Yes. I wanted to tell you something too, and I’d rather say this kind of thing in my own voice, even if not in person. Courfeyrac only told you that I wasn’t interested in you because he didn’t want to out me. But I wanted you to know that it’s nothing personal, I’m asexual and aromantic. I never feel sexual or romantic attraction.”

“That makes sense,” Grantaire said thoughtfully, suddenly remembering all the times Enjolras had roughly turned someone down or snorted at a extravagant display of romantic affection. He felt that maybe he should be disappointed by the news, but though he never officially knew those labels applied to Enjolras, it was hardly hidden that he had no interest in such things. And even without that, the feelings that haunted Grantaire in his college days weren’t there anymore. Maybe not completely gone, but they were dormant, tucked away somewhere he could bring out again if he wanted to try, which he didn’t.

Enjolras swallowed. “Okay, good. I don’t want to assume anything, but um, what happened earlier with the coffee, and plus Ange de Feu is pretty, well, romantic, and Courfeyrac screenshotted and showed me your conversation and, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have the wrong impression or anything.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t that Grantaire had said anything in his text conversation that he wanted to keep from Enjolras, but at the same time, if he knew Enjolras would read it, he would have said things differently. “Thanks for telling me. I would have taken you for your word anyway though and wouldn’t be offended or anything. And my feelings have changed a lot in the, what, four years since then?”

“Something like that. Also, Courfeyrac dared me to flirt with a stranger, so that explains earlier.”

“You took him up on that?” Grantaire laughed. Something about that interaction had seemed a little strange to him, but he was so surprised at having seen Enjolras again, and it had been so long, that he didn’t pay it much attention. He didn’t think he felt disappointed, especially since he wasn’t after learning Enjolras was aroace. But he felt something. Maybe it was less that he was unhappy the flirting was fake, and more that he was unhappy that the interaction wasn’t entirely genuine. But emotions were complicated, and he didn’t feel like dwelling on them much, any longer.

“Twenty dollars were at stake,” Enjolras explained.

“Oh, I see,” Grantaire said, jokingly. “Money. That explains it. I’m glad Courfeyrac cleared up everything between us though.”

“He’s wonderful,” Enjolras agreed. “And Ange de Feu was a great song. I am so honored to be its inspiration, and I wish I could be half as impressive as the person you sing about. But I’m not really like that.”

“I was exaggerating for artisticness,” Grantaire said, his face reddening. “But you were that impressive to me then. Can we never talk about my college days again? Especially anything involving you, because that was not my best self. I don’t want to relive the shameful past.”

Enjolras laughed. “I’m not sure if that can happen, given the curiosity of my friends, but I’ll change the subject. I can just hardly believe someone I look up to so much looked up to me first, so I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Well, I was pretty surprised to meet you again too,” Grantaire said, pleased that Enjolras assumed they would meet up sometime, despite the uncomfortableness he had to be feeling, from meeting a famous person and worrying about any possible lingering romantic feelings on Grantaire’s end. “My friends would probably want to meet you too. They could probably appreciate the irony of the coincidence better than I. It would be nice to meet up someday.”

“Yeah! It would certainly make any meeting between us less awkward if other people were around to keep things from feeling weird, and the conversation going and stuff.”

“That sounds good. I’ll you text you days that work, after I check with the rest of them.”

“Okay,” Enjolras said, and they fell into a brief moment of silence.

“So, what have you been up to these last few years?” Grantaire said quickly. He couldn’t stand awkward silences and might normally fill it up himself in any way he could, but he wanted to hear about Enjolras more than he wanted to rant about whatever first popped into his mind.

“Well I finished the four year university,” Enjolras said. “I’m in law school now. One more year to go. I work at the coffeeshop with Courfeyrac as a summer job, since school ended a week ago. I’m still with that activism group, though many of the members are different, and we’re closer. I assume you first noticed me from that?”

“Oh yeah,” Grantaire said. “I’m not sure if there was anyone in our school who didn’t know you, after all the stuff you guys did. Not everybody liked you, but you were definitely known.”

Enjolras laughed. “Funny how things change, huh?”

“You’ll be caught up to me in famousness in no time. And long after my music is forgotten, the changes you make will still be having impact.”

“That’s...” Enjolras was silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he said, touched. “Though I wouldn’t discount the lasting impact of your music either.”

“Ehh...” Grantaire said skeptically.

“Think of it this way. You inspire me. If anything I do, while being motivated or influenced in any way by one of your songs (which is just about everything recently) lasts, then your legacy does too.”

Grantaire laughed. “Oh, but you inspired me first, so I guess we’re stuck in a bit of a loop.”

“It seems we are.”

“So,” Grantaire said apologetically. “I would love to talk with you forever, but it’s getting kind of late now...”

“Oh! I forgot about that. We’ll see each other soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said.

“Good night then,” Enjolras said.

“Good night, Enjolras,” Grantaire said.

...

It was the first time Bossuet would meet the famous Enjolras, from Grantaire’s college days. Having gone to the same college as Grantaire, he had seen Enjolras plenty of times, but he had never really spoken to him. They ran in different circles, and with Grantaire being as Grantaire had been, Bossuet had just thought it safer for his sanity to stay away.

Now, with all that in the past, he was looking forward to it. Grantaire had made him, Joly, and Cosette promise not to say anything about the past, but Bossuet figured that it would still be fun.

Cosette and Bossuet talked about maybe asking the activist group that Grantaire told them Enjolras was still leading about working together some time. Like organizing an event where their band played to raise funds for a charity or organization, or even just showing up to a protest for publicity. It had been a while since Bossuet was seriously involved in a group like that, though Cosette and her father were very much involved, and were most of the group’s connection to that kind of thing.

He also wanted to see how much truth there was to the high praises Grantaire quite literally sang of Enjolras. Grantaire made him promise not to bring it up, but that didn’t mean that Bossuet wasn’t going to be thinking about it, that afternoon. And maybe exchange an amused glance or two with Joly, whenever an opportunity came.

They were meeting at a park, because it was a sunny week, and in the outdoors, there was enough room for everyone. Bossuet and Joly showed up together, after Grantaire and a few other people were already there.

“Hello! Joly and Bossuet! It is such a pleasure to meet you! I’m Courfeyrac,” one of the people they didn’t know said, with much exuberance. 

“Good to meet you too!” Joly said, shaking his hand.

“You were in one of my law classes, weren’t you?” Bossuet asked.

Courfeyrac made a whining sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t believe I went to the same college as you guys and didn’t even know or remember. Knowing my luck, we probably were in the same class, just to rub the salt in years later, when I became a huge fan of yours.”

“To be fair,” Bossuet said. “I was one of the quiet guys in the back. I think you made funny comments and talked to the professor everyday, so there’s a reason you don’t remember me. I wouldn’t remember me.”

“That sounds like me. But if you were in law, wouldn’t we have had more classes together?” Courfeyrac asked.

“He didn’t continue law,” Joly said.

“It’s a complicated story, but I ended up switching majors halfway through junior year, to social sciences,” Bossuet explained. “So I really only took a few law classes.”

“Do you want me to introduce you to everyone here?” Courfeyrac offered.

“Sure,” Joly said. “There’s a lot of people.”

“And not everybody’s shown up yet. That’s Combeferre, probably the smartest man in the world,” Courfeyrac began, pointing at a tall person wearing glasses. He ran through everyone else, giving each a little comment to describe who they were. Bossuet could only remember a couple of them because there was so many of them, but he appreciated the effort.

“And that’s Enjolras,” Courfeyrac concluded. “You probably know him. Did Grantaire explain the whole thing that went on between them?”

“All the basics, yes,” Joly said, grinning. “It’s pretty funny how things turned out.”

“You would not believe how much lovelorn whining we had to endure from Grantaire, back in college,” Bossuet added. “So I’m so glad we get to watch how things work out now.”

Courfeyrac snickered. “I’d complain about Enjolras fanning over Grantaire’s voice or your lyrics or tune or whatever, but I’m probably just as guilty. Being on the sidelines of this drama is quite entertaining.”

Cosette had arrived, and walked right up to Enjolras. “You must be Enjolras!” she exclaimed, loudly enough for Bossuet to hear. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

Grantaire’s response wasn’t quite understandable, at the distance they were from each other, but they could all hear the nervousness in his voice, as he awkwardly tried to stop Cosette from saying anything further.

Enjolras was visibly blushing, clearly in awe of Cosette.

Bossuet, Joly, and Courfeyrac all exchanged amused looks.

“Well,” Joly said, laughing. “I should probably rescue my friend before the situation gets any worse.”

Bossuet and Courfeyrac looked at each other, as Joly left.

“If he’s handling it, there’s no reason for me to get involved,” Bossuet said. “I’d probably make the situation worse.”

“My excuse is that my friend doesn’t appear to be suffering much,” Courfeyrac said.

“They can handle it without us,” Bossuet agreed.

“Oh look, food!” Courfeyrac pointed at a picnic table, where a mousy boy was unpacking a large cooler with the help of an angular girl.

“Let’s go get some,” Bossuet suggested. As they approached the two, Bossuet realized the boy was familiar.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Courfeyrac said, as he hugged the boy. “Thanks for bringing food.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” the boy said, reddening a little.

“Hey, Marius Pontmercy, right?” Bossuet said.

The boy stared at him in astonishment. “Bossuet! I didn’t realize you were the same Bossuet that Courf and Enj talk about all the time.”

“You know each other?” the girl said, looking between the two of them. “I didn’t think your group could get anymore coincidentally linked to ours, but I was wrong. I’m Eponine, by the way. I don’t know any of you guys from college.”

“Bossuet,” he greeted. Then, realizing his mistake, “Sorry, Marius just said that, but I mean, nice to meet you.”

“So how do you know each other?” Courfeyrac interjected.

“Bossuet got in huge trouble for me,” Marius said.

“It’s part of the reason why I changed my major,” Bossuet explained. “A teacher got super mad at me, when I took some blame for something Marius did.”

“Marius did something that would make a teacher pissed?” Eponine said in surprise, while Marius blushed. “Now I wish I did know you in college.”

“Tell me the whole story?” Courfeyrac asked.

Bossuet and Marius obliged.

...

“So that went well,” Enjolras said, finally flopping onto his bed. The meeting ended up far longer than expected. Once it started getting late, they had dinner and found a bar to spend the rest of the evening, though a couple people had to leave early.

“I got to say,” Courfeyrac said, sitting down in a more controlled fashion on his own bed. “Bossuet and Joly are amazing. I’ve never been more honored to lose a pun-off in my life.”

“So what now?” Enjolras mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Courfeyrac asked.

“These last few days... this situation. It’s been so weird. Unbelievably so. It feels like it’s going to be over soon, like this is just a dream that I haven’t woken up from yet, and now everything’s coming to an end. So what do I do now?”

“If you end things between our two groups, just as they’re coming together so nicely, I’m going to steal every food you save in the fridge for later for a year,” Courfeyrac threatened. “We’re planning something super amazing with Cosette, like this giant charity thing, and it’s going to be the funnest event we’ll do all year, so you can’t ruin that for me.”

“That’s not really what I meant,” Enjolras sighed. “I’m just doubting myself, forget it. It just feels like this story is done, and there’s nothing left now.”

“No, no,” Courfeyrac said. “Stories always end when people get into relationships, whether they’re romantic, or platonic, or like a team, or whatever. Or they show the drama in relationships, or have it only on the side or whatever if it’s going well. But that doesn’t mean real life ends there. So let me tell you what’s going to happen. We’re going to arrange more get-togethers, and meetings. We’ll grow closer, more comfortable with each other. We’ll work together on a lot of events. Cosette’s dad is involved in a bunch of charities, and all of them seemed at least a little interested in social activism. So they’ll start helping us there, and we’ll all kind of mesh into one club.

“I’m going to make lots of puns with Joly and Bossuet, and Grantaire will talk to Jehan about poetry, and they’ll probably influence each other’s work. Combeferre will pretend he’s tired of us talking about music all the time now, but in reality he won’t mind. Cosette will someday take Bahorel up on his invitation to spar with her, and it’s going to be amazing. There’ll be a thousand other kinds of interactions, that I don’t have time to go through right now. But they’ll all be great. You’ll inspire Grantaire to write more songs about friendship and angelic beings that are probably going to either save the world or destroy it. Man, just talking about this future makes me can’t wait for it to happen. It’s going to wonderful.”

“You’re really certain that we’re going to get super close. But they have lots of friends and fans, why do you think it’s going to be that strong?” Enjolras asked.

“It’s a feeling,” Courfeyrac said. “Like we were always meant to be a group of friends. They complete and complement us, you know? We’re going to kick ass! But even if we don’t, then it’ll be because we tried and it didn’t work out. Because I know I’m not going to readily give up on this dream I have of us in one united group. So now? You don’t need to do anything big. Show up. Keep talking with Grantaire. Get to know the other three better. Arrange another meeting. The great thing about group relationships is that, to combine two already existing ones, a single person doesn’t have to do a lot of the work. Just go with it, and it’ll be wonderful, but also become normal.”

“I need to stop overthinking things sometimes,” Enjolras said. “I guess you’re right. This could be the start of something amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> I made all the song lyrics in this, so they probably aren't as good as Grantaire's would be, but since one was an early song, and the other was a first draft, I figured it's good enough.


End file.
